


Pater Patriae

by hollow_dweller



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: AU from Infinity War, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Fix-It, Gen, I didn't tag every relationship but it's safe to assume that, Morgan was Born Pre-Snap, Not Avengers: Endgame (Movie) Compliant, POV Alternating, Peter Parker Acting as Morgan Stark's Parental Figure, Peter survives the Snap, Tony Pepper and May Don't, also my Scott Lang feels jumped out here, and honestly all you need to know about my storytelling priorities, eventual Ironfam, everyone would Die for Peter Parker, that's the central thesis of this fic, which includes May btw you'd best believe, which is not a thing I knew I had
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-19
Updated: 2020-05-19
Packaged: 2021-03-03 03:33:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,915
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24268243
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hollow_dweller/pseuds/hollow_dweller
Summary: After Thanos, three fathers wake up to a brave new world.A retelling of Endgame in a universe where things went a little differently.
Relationships: Peter Parker & Avengers Team, Peter Parker & Morgan Stark (Marvel Cinematic Universe), Peter Parker & Tony Stark
Comments: 36
Kudos: 131





	Pater Patriae

**Author's Note:**

> Ok so I've got another fic on the go right now, which I am trying to prioritize. The elevator scene just sprung into my head, and the rest of the fic spawned from there. The next bits of this are plotted, but I want to get a chapter or two out from my other fic first, and also the world is on fire so updates will be accordingly sporadic. 
> 
> This is an Endgame retelling of sorts, so if you recognize it, assume it's not mine and was borrowed with the utmost care and affection.

Emerging from the quantum realm is like falling into a nightmare. 

It’s hard for him to get his bearings, going from drifting in sub-atomic space, bored and increasingly hungry, to landing in a pile of garbage in a dirty storage unit, to frantically searching through thousands of names on what is clearly a memorial- to what Scott has no idea- heart in his throat at the idea of seeing his daughter’s name engraved on that cold stone. 

Finding his own name instead is like being doused in ice water, at once terrifying and deeply relieving. His name is there, and that’s- incomprehensible, he literally can’t wrap his head around what it  _ means _ \- but it’s alone. 

Seeing Cassie again is a worse shock than seeing himself listed among “The Vanished”. He knew he’d lost time, somehow- San Francisco was so different, empty, like something out of a movie- but until he’d seen her, he hadn’t realized how much. He can’t think of anything to say, so he just holds her, overwhelmed and confused, gripped by the understanding that he’d lost something precious with her, but grateful to be holding her all the same. 

They pull away, somewhat, and he stares at her, cataloging all the differences, the changes that years and puberty bring. She’s so much older, and still so young. 

“You’re so big,” he gasps out finally, with a little laugh. It’s all he can think to say. 

* * *

Neither Maggie nor Jim were Vanished, and Scott is so grateful for that fact that he could cry. When the four of them pile on the floor of the living room, limbs tangled tightly together, uncomfortable and squished and so, so good, he does cry. So does everyone else, though, so it’s alright. 

They explain, in fits and starts, what he’s missed- the five years, the Decimation, an alien by the name of Thanos and his mad, horrifying plan. As next of kin to an Avenger- or at least, someone Avenger-adjacent- they’d been given a more thorough briefing than the regular public. Natasha Romanov herself had come, first to confirm that Scott hadn’t survived- they’d been trying to get a sense of just how many heroes remained, after the Decimation, apparently- and then to explain to his family what had actually happened.

She’d asked them to keep an eye out. For what, she’d offered no explanation, except for that as family members to a superhero, they’d know more than the average civilian about what to look for. 

They confirm for him too, what he’d suspected since the moment his radio had cut out, all those hours- and years- ago. 

The entire Van Dyne-Pym family was Vanished. Hope is gone. 

* * *

He and Cassie get into a fight over his decision to leave. When he rejects her offer to go with him, it devolves into a screaming match. 

Leaving her is the last- the absolute  _ last _ \- thing that Scott wants to do. If he had his way, he’d wrap her in his arms and never let go. He’s felt that way essentially every day since she was born, but after learning that he’d lost five entire years with her- five years in which she’d thought he was  _ dead _ \- that feeling is amplified to the point where it’s nearly unbearable. 

But the truth is, Scott hasn’t really accepted what’s happened. Cassie, Maggie, Jim- they’ve been dealing with grief on a scale that Scott can’t fathom, spending years wading through the shared suffering of trillions of living beings. They’ve had a cruelty inflicted on them that’s so foreign- literally alien, though Scott knows there are humans who think with the same bland nihilism as Thanos, even if not on the same scale- that Scott can’t even begin to wrap his head around it. 

The thing is, he’s not convinced that he has to. 

Scott’s existence is proof that there was more, at least in some small way, to what happened than anyone realized. He wasn’t Vanished- just lost, and for only a few hours, relatively speaking. He can’t get the idea out of his mind- the fact that, essentially, he time-traveled to the future. If he can find out some way to do it again, to control it, then maybe- 

Maybe he can fix this. Undo a little bit of the hurt that his daughter has dealt with these past years. Bring everyone back. 

He can’t do it alone, he knows- he’s a smart guy, sure, but he’s no Hank Pym. He needs help, if he’s going to do this. 

And he knows where he can get it. 

So he stands firm against his daughter’s yells, her pleas, and her eventual tears, pulling her close to him and whispering reassurances, lips brushing against her forehead. Maggie and Jim join them, pressing in, just as unhappy with him, but ultimately understanding.

Eventually, Scott pulls away. He has a long trip to upstate New York ahead of him, and he needs to get going. 

But first, he’s got a van to steal. 

* * *

The drive to New York is long, almost unbearably so. He barely stops to sleep or eat, and there’s virtually no traffic on the highways, but it would still be over 40 hours of driving time even if he could do it straight, which he can’t. 

He spends a lot of the time driving there with his phone on speaker, Cassie chatting away, telling him stories about her life. She leaves a lot out, he can tell, and even then the magnitude of what he lost hits him hard enough that he sometimes has to mute himself so she won’t notice his sobs, but it’s- nice. To hear her voice. To catch up on the person that she’s become. Even if he can’t be with her, he can have this. 

When he finally arrives and approaches the front gate- after saying goodbye to Cassie and promising to call her the next chance he gets- he’s struck by a sudden bout of nerves. He’s pretty sure- almost- that they’ll let him in, hear him out. Probably. 

But. What if they don’t  _ want _ to undo it? What if they’ve all moved on, learned to cope? There will be logistical nightmares, he knows- doubling the population suddenly, after five years, could be just as cataclysmic as halving it had been, from a resourcing standpoint. What if they decide it’s not worth the risk? 

At first, he’s almost sure that’s what they’re going to tell him. Natasha Romanov and Captain America are the only ones around- and Scott is deliberately not wondering if they’re the only ones  _ left _ , okay, he’s not- and both of them have the kind of poker faces that could make a guy sweat just thinking about them. 

They watch him pace and mutter, for a time, before Cap prompts, not unkindly, “Scott. Are you okay?” 

“Yeah,” he breathes, trying to figure out where to start. “Have either of you guys ever studied quantum physics?” 

“Only to make conversation.” 

They keep their faces blank, tones even, as he explains about the quantum realm, the time differential, his theory about being able to control the chaos, the possibilities for retrieving the Stones. They press him on that idea, Cap asking about time travel with a small, disbelieving raise of his eyebrow. 

Scott’s stomach sinks. “Yeah, I- I know it sounds crazy. It’s crazy. But I can’t stop thinking about it. There’s gotta be… some way…” He looks down. “It’s crazy-” 

“Scott.” He jerks his head up to look at Natasha. “I get emails from a raccoon, so. Nothing sounds crazy anymore.” Then she smiles. When Scott looks over to Cap, he’s smiling too. 

“So. Who do we talk to about this?”

* * *

Scott’s not quite sure what he was expecting out of the home of the new CEO of Stark Industries, but a low-rise apartment building on a quiet street in Queens is not it. 

Finding out that Tony Stark and Pepper Potts had been Vanished was startling. Scott had no particular feelings for Stark, aside from the same vague sympathy he had for everyone he’d met in Germany, dragged into a fight no-one was eager to win, and he’d never met Potts, but the two of them had been a seemingly unstoppable force. It’s hard to think that the billionaire, genius, philanthropist couple, a literal superhero and one of the world’s most powerful women, was just… gone. Like the rest of them. All that power, reduced to so much dust. 

Scott doesn’t exactly envy whoever was chosen to succeed them, but he assumed they’d have that same Starkian “more is more” flair. The apartment building, however, is unassuming- no logo or name emblazoned across it, no tech or glowing signs, no security, or even a doorman. When Natasha leads them up the short flight of stairs to the building’s door, Scott’s surprised to see that she pulls a perfectly normal set of keys out of her pocket to let them into the building. It isn’t until they hit the elevator, in fact, that there’s any sign this isn’t a run-of-the-mill low-rise. 

They’re halfway there- the apartment is, somewhat predictably, on the top floor, not that penthouse placement is quite the same in a building this size- when it stops dead. There’s a brief moment where the buttons flash, and then a blue light washes over the three of them, sweeping up and down their bodies, clearly some kind of bio-metric scan. 

Natasha frowns, then looks up at the corner, where a camera is visible. “Karen? What’s up?” 

Before Scott can ask who Karen is, a voice responds, making him jump. “Hello Natasha. Alongside yourself and Captain Rogers, I have detected the presence of Scott Lang, AKA Ant-Man, who according to my records perished in the Decimation 5 years, 4 months, and 7 days ago. My protocols dictate that I must scan Mr. Lang for vitals, including heart rate, brain activity, body temperature, and any visible signs of viral infection or insatiable hunger.” 

It only takes a moment, and then it clicks. “Wait- you think I’m a  _ zombie _ ?” 

“My scans do not indicate any outward signs of zombification, Mr. Lang, but I am however required to double check. It’s called the Romero protocol.” 

Natasha sighs, but Scott catches her lips stretching into a fond smile before she swipes her hand across her face. “Karen, I am confirming to you that Scott is not a zombie, or a threat of any kind, okay?” 

Which, alright, fair. But also: hey. 

“If you would like to bypass the Romero protocol, please provide your pass-code.” 

“The Amazing Spider-Aunt.” 

Scott opens his mouth, and Natasha looks over at him, expression mild. He shuts his mouth. 

“Thank you Natasha, authorization confirmed via vocal recognition. Peter has been notified and is waiting for you at the apartment. One moment please.” 

The elevator re-engages, and it’s only another 30 seconds before the doors are opening onto a short hallway. Beyond that, there’s a single door to what must be the floor’s only apartment, and standing in front of it is a kid. 

If this is the guy they’re supposed to be meeting, then he’s got to be at least in his twenties, though he doesn’t really look it. He’s of a medium height, handsome, with curly brown hair that looks damp, like he just got out of the shower. He’s wearing sweats and a faded, too-large t-shirt- The Last Jedi, Scott notes. Not his favorite, but solid enough. 

He’s also very clearly readying for a fight- body braced, feet apart, knees slightly bent, hands curled into fists. His arms are held kind of awkwardly, with his wrists turned slightly outward. He’s got slim black wristbands on, with some sort of apparatus extending onto the palm- maybe a touch sensor. This is the head of Stark Industries, after all, and even five years ago technological advances were such that weapons could be fairly slim and compact. 

This guy isn’t all that big, and although he’s clearly fit, Scott imagines it would make sense for him to have something easy to hide under clothes that could down an opponent quickly, to avoid getting into fights that your average businessperson or scientist- even a young one- wasn’t going to have a hope of winning. 

His eyes are fixed on Scott, wary as he steps out of the elevator and into the hall, then flick to Cap and Natasha. 

“Uh. Hey guys. Got something you wanna share with me?” 

Natasha raises an eyebrow. “You have a protocol that checks your guests for signs of zombification?” 

The kid shrugs. “Only when they’re dead.” 

“Fair enough. Let’s go inside. This is a bit of a story, and you’ll want to be sitting down for the stinger.”

* * *

The inside of the apartment is something like a science lab-meets-daycare-meets-college dorm. The open floor plan branches into two sections, perpendicular to each other, with the kitchen nestled in the corner where they meet, separated from the rest of the space by a wide, rustic-looking island. 

The furniture in what’s obviously been designated as the living room area is old, but well cared for, and clearly geared for comfort- two wide, squishy couches and an overstuffed armchair, angled around a wooden coffee table and facing a state-of-the-art entertainment system. A corner of the room looks to be a dedicated play space for a child, with brightly-colored rubber matting in the shape of puzzle pieces overlaying the hardwood and two large, overflowing toy chests. The walls are adorned with movie posters in plain frames, and a shelving unit houses a mix of what looks like textbooks, comics, and Lego models. 

The farthest branch of the main floor was probably at one point intended to be a dining room, but the large table that dominates it is clearly some kind of technological workspace. What looks to be a complex molecular structure is rendered in 3-D hologram over the table. 

Just beyond the kitchen another hallway branches off, leading to what Scott assumes are the bathroom and bedrooms. 

The kid gestures at the couches, then takes a seat in the armchair. He glances up at the ceiling. “Karen, throw up a sonic barrier please? I don’t want the munchkin hearing us and waking up.”

There’s confirmation from what Scott is realizing must be an AI- which,  _ cool _ \- and then the kid turns his serious gaze back to Scott. Before he can ask any questions, however, Natasha steps in. 

“Scott, this is Peter Parker. He’s the CEO of Stark Industries, and one of the foremost scientific minds in the world. That’s why we’re here.” 

“Nice to meet you, Peter.” 

Peter smiles, a little, and draws one knee up, tucking his foot under his opposite thigh in a kind of half-lotus pose. “Thanks, but uh, we’ve kind of met. I’m also Spider-Man.” 

“Oh.” That makes sense, kind of. It doesn't make any less sense than anything else Scott has encountered since his quantum vacation, anyway. But also- “Oh god, sorry for flinging you onto a tarmac.” 

Peter laughs. “No worries. Sorry for setting you up to get knocked on your ass.” 

Scott waves a hand, brushing it off. “Eh. Empire Strikes Back, right?” 

At that, Peter grins and leans over, fist out, which Scott obligingly taps with his own. Peter looks around to Natasha and Cap, and the smile slides from his face. 

“Why are you guys here, exactly? I mean, obviously there’s a thing-” he gestures broadly at Scott, “but- what is it?” 

Scott glances at the other two, but they’re looking at him, gazes intent, so he jumps into the story. Peter looks startled at the first mention of the quantum realm, but his gaze quickly smooths out, settling into a faint, thoughtful frown as he listens attentively.

It’s just as awkward as the first time he explained this to Natasha and Cap, words trailing off with a stammer when he gets to the part about going back in time to get the Stones. Peter is looking beyond Scott, now, fingers tapping restlessly against his bent knee. After a moment, he speaks.

“So you’re thinking, if we can safely travel through the quantum realm, we could pull off some kind of- what did you call it?” 

“A-um. A time heist?” 

“A time heist.” Peter gets up, walking over to his holo-table. He pads around it so he’s facing the group on the couch, but he’s not looking at them. He stares at the molecular model hovering there, for a moment, then wipes it away. He sighs. 

“There’s- look, quantum fluctuation messes with the Planck scale, which then triggers the Deutsch proposition. It means- usually it means- you’re not coming back. Even with what happened with you Scott, it’s like, the odds- it was like a billion to one cosmic fluke that you survived.” His tone is neutral, but there’s something in his face, and Scott’s stomach swoops. Despite his words, this doesn’t sound like a no.

“No, uh, we know what it sounds like. But…”

Cap steps in here. “The Stones are in the past. We could go and get them.”

“We could snap our fingers, bring everyone back.” Natasha's voice wavers, just slightly, on the last word. 

Peter rubs a hand across the back of his neck. Looks over at the darkened hallway that leads to the rest of the apartment. Looks back at Cap. “I just- I need you to understand that there’s a non-zero chance we could mess everything up. More than he already did.”

Cap nods, but says, “I don’t believe we will.” 

“We have to take a stand.” Natasha adds. 

Peter doesn’t say anything for a long, unnerving moment, then flicks his wrist, pulling up a schematic for- something. A piece of tech, clearly, but it’s unlike anything Scott’s ever seen before. He gets up from his seat on the couch, and hears Cap and Natasha do the same behind him. It’s in the shape of a mobius strip, whatever  _ it _ is, but slightly off somehow, like it’s been- inverted, almost, though Scott’s not sure how. There are all kinds of readings popping up around the model, more than Scott can sort through, but one stands out. 

_ MODEL SUCCESS: 99.987%  _

Scott’s breath catches. He feels the sudden, overwhelming urge to sit down, and grips the edge of the table to keep himself steady. 

“...Queens.” That’s Cap, something like awe bleeding into his voice. 

Peter looks towards the hallway again, and Natasha walks over to him, both her hands settling on his shoulders. 

“Peter…” 

Scott understands, then. “You were- you were already planning to go back. This is a- what? Time-space GPS?” 

Peter nods, then reaches a hand up to wrap loosely around one of Natasha’s wrists. He ducks his head down, expression rueful, and Scott is struck again by how young he is. It’s 11 o'clock at night and he doesn’t even have any stubble. “It took me a long time to work through the logistics. There was all that data about Hank Pym and Janet Van Dyne’s missions, remember, dumped on the internet with the SHIELD files? I figured, based on what happened to her, it was possible to access the quantum realm, and from there, well. It’s a pretty logical jump to what that could mean in terms of salvaging the Stones.” 

He sounds tired, and there’s something pleading in his voice now, something… apologetic.

“I was working backwards, though. Honestly, figuring out the navigation is the easiest part. Pym’s the only one who actually knew how to get to the quantum realm. His research was light-years ahead; no-one else in the field can even touch him. It’s why I never brought anything to the team. Without a quantum tunnel, this-” he gestures at the model, “is just a really fancy wristwatch.” 

Natasha leans forward, brushing her lips against his forehead. “Oh,  _ malen'kiy pauk _ …” 

Cap clears his throat, and his voice when he speaks sounds rough. “But now, since we have a quantum tunnel…?” 

Peter steps away from Natasha to turn fully towards Cap, but keeps a hand looped around her wrist. He meets Cap’s gaze, then Scott’s, and he feels a rush of exhilaration at the spark that he sees in those steady brown eyes.

“Like you said. We need to take a stand.”

* * *

They leave Peter behind and head back to the Compound. He has things to arrange, he says, but he’ll meet them out there. And besides, they need a chance to put together a team. 

Natasha leaves immediately to go pick up Hawkeye. There’s a story there, Scott can tell from the silent looks exchanged between her and Cap when she tells him this, but he doesn’t ask. Whatever’s been up with Barton, Scott’s pretty sure he neither needs nor wants to know. 

Bruce Banner and Thor arrive, together, and they’re both- well, not what Scott was anticipating. 

Bruce is... big. Integrated, he says, with a proud smile. Scott hadn't ever met him, before, only ever seen the footage of the Hulk, first in Harlem, then during the Incident. Shaky hand cams and blurry newsreel footage, but still enough to understand the power and destruction contained in that massive body. Seeing all that, standing mildly in front of him, wearing a  _ cardigan? _ It’s. Uh. Confusing, to say the least. 

And Thor. Well. Thor is  _ sad _ . There’s no other word for it. 

It’s not really in appearance- he’s scruffy, for sure, and seems to have taken to wearing exclusively lounge-wear- but, beyond that, it’s more so in the way he carries himself. He jokes, slurs his way casually through greeting Scott, keeps an absent smile plastered on his face while he cracks a beer- and then another, and another, until anyone who's not a literal god would have long since been laid out on the ground- and Scott gets the sense that he’s barely holding it together. 

He’s seen enough people lost in the grips of grief, even before half the universe died. He knows what it looks like. 

He thinks about standing in a lab, talking about his dreams and seeing relief and vindication bloom on the faces of two of the people he cares most about in the world. Thinks about never seeing them again. 

He tries on a smile and shakes Thor’s hand. 

Shortly after that, War Machine arrives, bringing with him two living, breathing aliens. One’s the infamous email-sending raccoon- Rocket- and the other’s a blue android named Nebula, who is entirely unimpressed with Scott’s stammered greetings. 

In his defense, they’d landed an actual spaceship, like, right in front of him. And they're _aliens_. It’s  _ awesome _ , and Scott is only human, ok? What else is he going to say? 

When Peter shows up, last to arrive aside from Natasha and Barton, he’s different from the tired, reserved person Scott had met just two nights ago. He seems to be almost vibrating with energy, bounding- literally bounding, leaps just this side of too far for an average human- across the hangar where they’ve been gathering supplies to build the quantum tunnel, catching Rhodey up in a hug that’s so enthusiastic it actually lifts him off his feet, startling a laugh out of him.

To Scott’s astonishment, Nebula is next in line for a hug, which she not only allows but also returns- if a little awkwardly. Scott has yet to see Nebula be anything but stiffly formal- and kind of rude, if he’s honest- with anyone, even Rocket, who he knows she works closely with. 

He hugs Thor next, the god looking startled and somehow even more awkward about it than Nebula, though he squeezes Peter back, leaning his cheek on top of Peter’s head. Rocket and Scott get hi-fives, Steve a jaunty wave, and by the time Peter is leaping onto Bruce’s back, everyone is smiling, and the mood is lighter than it’s been since Scott emerged from the quantum realm. 

Bruce reaches over his shoulder and plucks Peter off his back, holding him at arm’s length and giving him a gentle, affectionate shake. Peter grins and grips Bruce’s forearm with both hands, fingers fanned out, but still not meeting each other across the span of that massive limb. 

Bruce sets him down, and Peter spins to face the room, everyone drawing closer. 

“Ready to go then?” Steve asks. 

“Yeah,” Peter says. “Gwen’s got SI in hand, no problem, and she didn’t even skin me alive for ditching and not giving a timeline for when I’d be back, so. Score. After that I just had to get the munchkin settled at Uncle Happy’s and I was on my way.” 

Bruce smiles. “How is Morgan, anyway?” 

Morg- oh. This kid is a successor in more ways than one, apparently. 

Scott remembers reading about the birth, only a few months ago. Or nearly six years, as the case may be. The family hadn’t released anything but a name, nobody’d even seen pictures, but her birth had been heralded far and wide, across traditional and social media alike. Welcome to the world, Morgan Stark-Potts, sure-to-be-genius, future leader of Stark Industries, the world’s most famous infant.

She would have been barely 5 months old, Scott realizes, when Thanos came and wiped out half the universe, including both her parents. She probably doesn’t remember them. 

He takes a deep breath, centering himself, pushing down the suddenly overwhelming urge to hop back in his van, go back to San Francisco, and never let Cassie out his sight again. 

Peter smiles, eyes going soft. “She’s amazing, as usual. Taking kindergarten by storm.” 

“You decided to go ahead and let her do it, then? I know they were thinking of pushing her ahead.” 

“Thought about it, but I wanted her to get the opportunity to socialize with other kids. Since we never did the preschool or daycare thing. Kindergarten’s a good shot at normalcy, for her.” 

Rhodey smirks. “Yeah, very normal, what with every teacher, student, and student’s guardian undergoing a background check by multiple government agencies as well as an alarming and dubiously-legal AI.” 

“Also very normal,” Cap chimes in with a grin, “to have said alarming AI monitor her and her classmates with dozens of weaponized drones. Exceptionally normal.” 

Peter rolls his eyes. “Hey, just because I want her hanging out with kids her age and not a rotating band of superheroes, doesn’t mean I’m going to get careless with her safety. Also, none of the drones that monitor her are weaponized, thank you very much. Also also, leave Edith alone, she can hear you and you’ll hurt her feelings.” He taps a pair of sunglasses that he’s got hooked on the collar of his t-shirt. 

“I thought Karen was your AI?” Scott asks, confused. “Did I forget her name? Is that rude? It feels rude.” 

“It’s an AI,” Rhodey says, exasperated, tone light enough for Scott to get the sense that he’s joking. Probably. 

Peter frowns at Rhodey, scrunching his nose. “It’s still rude to forget their names, excuse you. I knew I liked you for a reason, Scott- the AI that runs my home and suit is Karen, and Edith runs my perfectly-legal drone system and does a few other assorted tasks.” 

“Huh. Man, two AIs. The rest of us are missing out, with our average of no AIs.” 

Rhodey laughs, reaching out to hook an arm around Peter’s neck. “We can thank our boy Tony for that uneven distribution of resources. He clearly played favorites.” 

Everyone falls silent at that, for a moment, but then Peter clears his throat. “Well, you can all harass him about that yourselves soon enough, right?” 

Cap nods, grin spreading slowly across his face. “Right. Let’s get started, team.” 

* * *

Things move quickly from there, and go shockingly well- until they don’t. 

They build an expanded version of the quantum tunnel from Scott’s van, with Peter, Bruce, and Scott working together to suss out how to scale the thing up, based on Scott’s recollection of everything Hope, Hank, and Janet had ever said about it, and the schematics he’d managed to salvage from the storage unit. 

They hash out the rough shape of a plan-crushing the sanctity of  _ Back to the Future _ canon along the way, Scott notes sourly- and Clint comes back from his test run shaken, emotional, but intact. And not de-aged to a baby, which is apparently a thing that can happen. 

“ERP paradox,” a slightly manic Peter explains to Scott, 57 hours into the build. “You end up pushing time through you, instead of pushing through time. It’s tricky- one of the reasons why we need the GPS. I only figured out how to compensate for the spectral decomp by sorting through literally thousands of eigenvalues, god it was such a bitch, even with an AI-  _ two _ AIs!- do you know how many particles I had to deal with?” He flops his head, dramatically, onto Scott’s shoulder. “Soooo many. Ridiculously many. It sucked.” 

It's about 20 minutes after that when Peter passes out under the quantum tunnel, and Scott has to get Bruce to carry him to bed. Genetically modified muscle mass is much denser than the regular kind, apparently. 

The first hitch comes when they try to figure out when, and where, they can collect the stones. They only have enough Pym particles for one round trip each, and they’re not eager to split up any more than they absolutely have to. Reality is easy- Thor rambles for a time about his experience with the Stone, but Bruce manages to sift through the important bits of the story and gently suggests that he and Rocket go to Asgard to retrieve it. 

Natasha reasons that Time, Mind, and Space are all in New York at the same time, in 2012- honestly it’s kind of a miracle that the worst the city experienced then is the Chitauri invasion. The Stones are like beacons for all kinds of dangerous forces, as Peter points out- everyone in the room had been nearly killed by one at some point or another, with the exception of Scott. 

Power can be stolen from 2014, when someone named “Quill” had initially taken it from the temple it had been housed in. Nebula takes that one, and Rhodey somewhat gleefully volunteers to go with her- Scott suspects, after having spent some time with him, that the words “Temple of the Power Stone” had held too much promise of  _ Indiana Jones _ -esque adventure for Rhodey to resist. Scott can respect that. 

The problem, they find, is Soul. 

“Vormir is a dominion of death,” Peter explains, standing next to Nebula, arm looped through her robotic one. “Located at the very center of celestial existence. It’s where…” He darts a glance at her.

“It’s where Thanos murdered my sister.” 

The room goes silent.  _ Not it _ , Scott thinks. 

Peter presses closer to her side, supportive. “I’ve been poring through lore about Vormir and the Soul Stone for, god, ages now. There are planets all across the universe that have mythology centered around it. There’s a lot of variation, and nothing’s 100% universal, but there’s a pretty clear pattern.” He hesitates, obviously reluctant to say whatever it is, and a thrill of foreboding zips up Scott’s spine. 

Before he can go on, Natasha cuts in. “When were you studying Soul Stone mythology, kid?” 

Peter smiles, but it’s strained. “Well, I’ve been studying as much Infinity Stone lore as I can, not just Soul, but uh. Nebs and Carol have been sending me everything they come across, and I’ve built algorithms to search for common themes, patterns, that kind of thing. It’s one of the things Edith monitors.” 

Everyone stares. 

Peter flushes. “It’s not a big deal, just, you know. Something to do in my down time.” 

“So…” Natasha continues, slowly. “You’ve been researching the Stones this whole time. On top of inventing time travel-” 

“-raising a kid-” 

“-graduating high school-”

“-inventing time travel-”

“-running a company-”

“-being a superhero-”

“-inventing  _ time travel- _ ” 

“Ok! Ok! I get it! You can all stop, thanks!” Peter had hunched in on himself as the litany had gone on, shrinking behind Nebula, who looked amused. 

Rhodey reaches over, to ruffle his hair. “We’re just proud of you kid. ...also, kind of wondering what the rest of us are going to say when we get asked what the hell we were doing these last five years.” 

Peter straightens, looking indignant. “That’s not fair! It’s not-”

“It is.” That’s Cap. “Peter, we owe both you and Scott a debt.” 

Scott looks up at that, startled. Cap smiles, then settles a broad, warm hand on his shoulder. 

“We’d given up.” His voice is quiet, but weighted with meaning. Sincerity. “But you never did. Peter, you kept working, this whole time, despite- well, everything. And Scott, until you came along, we’d all just accepted that we missed our chance. We never even thought that there could be another way. You deserve credit for that- both of you. Thank you.” 

Scott opens his mouth. Closes it. Opens it again. Across the room, Peter looks equally speechless.

The moment holds for a long minute, and then- 

“Ok, if we’re done praising the puppies, can we get back to the Stones, please?” Rocket drawls. “I’m as grateful as the next guy, but I’d also like to get to the actual universe-saving, if we can.” 

Natasha cuffs Rocket upside the head, and Cap frowns, but Scott is thankful for the chance to collect himself. 

He’s totally going to see if Peter’s AI- one of them- can get him a recording of that speech, though. 

There’s some good-natured rumbling, everyone shifting in their seats, and then things settle, Rocket’s words lingering in the air. Peter still looks flustered, a bit, but the mood quickly grows serious again, and he straightens under the attention of the room. 

“So um, yeah. The lore.” He takes a breath. “The most common thing that comes up, again and again, is that. Well. The Soul Stone requires a sacrifice. In order to take the Stone, you must lose that which you love.”

The tension in the room ratchets up, any lingering good humor evaporating. 

“A soul for a soul. That- that’s the price.” 

_ Fuck, _ Scott thinks. 

Suddenly, Scott’s angry, enraged- madder than he’s ever been, maybe. They are so close,  _ so close _ to fixing this, and  _ this _ is what gets in their way? This is bullshit. 

“This is bullshit,” he says, before he can stop himself. Everyone’s heads turn towards him. He geared up now, and he leaps to his feet, pacing along the wall of windows. He wrings his hands, for a moment, then turns to Peter.“There’s got to be another way, something else- all that lore, across how many planets, and human- well, alien I guess- sacrifice was the only thing that ever came up?” 

“Not the  _ only _ thing,” Peter says, voice slow and a frown wrinkling his forehead. He sounds thoughtful, though, not angry. “Just the most common thing- like, super common. But there were some others…” He pulls his glasses out of his pocket, slipping them on. “Edith, can you bring up my notes, please? Project code-name: The Saddest Hallow.”

He’s quiet for a moment, eyes flickering as he reads through whatever she’s pulled up for him. He hums. 

“There is… one other thing that recurs enough times to be significant… statistically, I mean.” He grimaces. “I’m not sure this is any better, though.” 

Scott shrugs, helplessly. “Tell us, and then we can decide.” 

Peter looks around the room, at everyone’s pinched, solemn faces, then nods. “Different cultures frame it differently, but the kindest way to describe it is kind of like… a possession, I guess. Stories of heroes going off to Vormir and coming back different, more powerful, but… colder. Less human. Calling themselves vessels, saying they “shared their souls”, or whatever…” 

“Are we talking like a Vision situation, do you think? Not really human but close enough, and juiced up with Infinity Stone power?” Natasha asks. 

Peter shakes his head, slightly. “I don’t think that’s it, exactly. The Stone isn’t like, integrated into the person- that wouldn’t help us anyway, we need it to go in the gauntlet. It’s more like it’s got a… link to your brain, or your soul I guess, after you do this. And I don’t really  _ know _ what that entails, but a lot of these stories are pretty clear. The person who comes back isn’t really the same person who went to get the Stone.” 

“It would make sense,” Bruce says, thoughtful. “Exposing yourself to that much raw power, connecting yourself- your  _ soul _ \- to it? Anyone would be changed by that.” 

Peter winces. “Also I should mention, the rates of people who came back at  _ all _ after attempting to do this are like, way lower. A lot of these stories mention how many people tried and failed, before the hero or whatever succeeded. There’s a chance- a pretty good chance- that whoever goes… could die anyway.” 

Cap nods, and his face is solemn, but his eyes are warm, blazing with the same determination that had lit Peter's, the night Scott had first met him. 

"We have to try. We owe them that." 

* * *

In the end, it’s Cap himself who goes to Vormir. 

There’s a fight about it, particularly among the remaining “Original Avengers”. Thor gets right up into Cap’s face, eyes more focused than Scott’s ever seen them, grabbing his lapels and yelling about how he’s being an idiot. 

Natasha’s fury is cold, incandescently so; she tries to make a case for herself, as does Clint, which devolves into a three-way shouting match between both of them and Cap. Scott thinks they might actually come to blows over it, until Bruce shuts them all up by throwing a chair across the room. 

Scott, Nebula and Rocket leave after that, and it isn’t long until Peter joins them. He’s drawn and quiet, curling up on a couch in the sitting room they’ve all migrated to. Scott can’t hear the argument anymore, from where they are, but every once in a while Peter winces, so he assumes it’s still ongoing. 

After a while, Peter stands up, then jerks his head for the rest of them to follow. The team, when they all re-enter, are arrayed around the room. Cap is standing in front of the windows, back to the rest, with Rhodey standing a few paces away, looking at Cap a bit like he wants to hug him and a bit like he wants to punch him. Natasha and Clint are curled up together on one of the couches. Bruce and Thor are nowhere to be seen. 

Natasha looks up from where she’s studiously examining her and Clint’s intertwined hands. At Scott’s questioning look, she clears her throat, and Cap turns around. 

“I’m going, and I’m doing it alone.”

Scott nods, not surprised that he got his way. Peter, who must have already known this from what he could overhear, is clenching his jaw so tightly Scott almost thinks he can hear it creak. 

There’s nothing else to say to that, really, and after a few beats of silence, Cap strides out of the room. The rest of them disperse shortly thereafter. 

Tomorrow is, after all, the big day. 

* * *

Peter is the last to arrive, the next day, carrying something round and covered in canvas. When Cap sees him, he tenses. 

Peter stops short a few feet away, bouncing slightly on the balls of his feet, like he’s nervous about something. After a moment, wherein he and Cap just stare at each other, he pulls the canvas away and holds out the shield. 

“Pete, I don’t know…” 

“He fixed it for you.” Cap sucks in a breath. Peter looks determined. “I found it in his workshop- I haven’t touched it.” He shakes the shield a little, for emphasis. 

“Steve. He wanted you to have it.” 

Cap takes the shield, gripping Peter’s elbow in silent thanks. 

After that, things move fast. They get suited up, do all their final checks. Peter and Bruce spend nearly half an hour flipping switches and scrolling through read-outs, bickering until Natasha grabs each of them by the ear- Bruce bending down obligingly, so she can reach- and tugs them away, onto the platform. 

Cap reviews the plan, reminds them of the rules and what’s at stake. By the time he’s finished, Scott can feel the excitement boiling up inside him all over again. He feels almost giddy, and when Rocket comments on how good Cap is at the morale-boosting speech thing, Scott agrees enthusiastically. 

Bruce taps the final button on his wristwatch, and as the apparatus above the quantum tunnel platform begins to move, Natasha looks around their circle again. She’s smiling, shifting from foot to foot, but her gaze is intense as it lands on Cap. 

“See you in a minute,” she says. 

* * *

They all make it back.

Things had gone smoother than Scott could have ever hoped for. He travels back to 2012 with Peter, Bruce, Clint, and Natasha, landing a few blocks away from the battle’s epicenter. Bruce splits from the team quickly, heading off to that Strange guy’s house to collect the Time Stone. 

Peter, with a miniaturized Scott riding shotgun, clambers up to the top of Stark Tower. His suit’s some kind of fabric that warps light around it, making him virtually invisible as he climbs. Once there, it’s short work for Scott to hitch a ride with 2012 Stark- Peter’s breath hitches, minutely, the first time Stark steps into view, but that’s all the reaction he gives- and once the group has made their way down to the main floor lobby, he follows Peter’s instructions on how to disrupt the arc reactor. 

It’s nerve-wracking- the last thing he wants to do is kill Stark, on  _ accident _ , while trying to save the universe, but Peter assures him it’ll be ok. There’s a dicey moment where Peter, dressed in a security guard’s uniform that he procured from somewhere, is nearly knocked back by a frustrated Hulk as he bursts out of the stairwell. Luckily, Peter’s enhanced senses had warned him in the nick of time, and he’d jumped back- perhaps a  _ little _ too quickly for your average human, but nobody had noticed- and then slipped out the exit attached to the stairwell. 

Clint and Natasha had to take down an elevator full of SHIELD/Hydra agents in order to get to the Mind Stone, but that’s practically a walk in the park for them, at this point. Peter and Scott hang out, anxiously waiting a few blocks away, until they’ve confirmed that they’ve got the scepter. Then it's back to the future, as it were, for the group of them. 

When everyone materializes on the platform, only a fraction of a second after they had left, Cap falls to his knees with a dull thud. Peter and Natasha are immediately at his side, each of them looping an arm around his waist to help him stand again. His head lolls on his neck, body almost entirely limp, but his eyes are open. They flicker around the room, taking in the assorted heroes crowding around. 

His eyes meet Scott’s, for a brief moment, and what he sees in them makes Scott take an involuntary step back. 

There’s something deeply, terrifyingly  _ alien _ living in his gaze. Something that’s not Steve Rogers. 

For a moment, Scott feels his eyes burn and swim with spots of color, like he’s been looking directly at the sun. 

Then, he looks away, and Scott’s vision clears. 

Cap smiles at the group gathered around him. “We got them all.” He croaks. It’s not a question. 

Rhodey, still in his armor, holds up the case containing the Power Stone, and grins in elated disbelief as Clint, Scott, Bruce, and Rocket hold their own prizes aloft. “Are you telling me this actually worked?” 

Peter beams from where he’s still supporting Cap, breathing out a delighted laugh. 

“This… actually worked.” 

Rhodey lets out a whoop, and then they’re all joining in; cheering, laughing, piling in, not so much a group hug as it is a group smush. Scott loops one of his arms around Thor’s broad shoulders, scooping Rocket up in his other and laughing at the latter’s half-hearted cry of dismay. Out of the corner of his eye he catches Nebula trying to extricate herself, but Peter’s sticky fingers have her by the arm and she’s hemmed in on her other side by Bruce’s massive bulk. He can see Clint, smile breaking out across his face for the first time since Scott’s met him, Natasha’s free hand clutched tightly in his. 

It actually worked. They’re bringing everyone home. 

* * *

Of course, there’s a few more things they need to sort out before they can do that. 

Bruce and Peter take the Stones away to the lab so they can build the gauntlet. There is a weird, tense moment when Peter turns to Cap for the Soul Stone, and that alien look returns. Peter’s back straightens, feet parting automatically, but all Cap does is nod and hold out his open hand, orange gem nestled benignly in his palm. Peter doesn’t relax, but he does take the Stone, handling it carefully so as to avoid touching it with his bare hands. Cap's hands, Scott notices, are ungloved. 

Then the rest of them are off to shower and regroup, before reconvening in the lab for the final showdown, as it were. By the time all six Stones are situated firmly in the nanotech gauntlet, everyone has arrived except Nebula, watching raptly as Peter makes his final adjustments.

Rocket poses the question of who will snap, and after a few non-starters- Scott suddenly becomes very interested in the ceiling tiles as Thor begs a curiously blank-faced Steve for the opportunity to do something good, something right, and is rejected- they settle on Bruce. 

Peter looks a little mutinous when Bruce points out that he’s the only one who could withstand the levels of gamma radiation the gauntlet would give off, but doesn’t object. Before long, Peter is ordering Karen to lock down the facility and everyone is activating their respective suits, Natasha and Clint each equipped with portable force-fields to protect themselves from any energy backlash. 

The sheer, unbridled energy coursing through the gauntlet drives Bruce to his knees as soon as he slides it on, but Cap orders them all to stay back, and Bruce eventually pants out that he’s okay. 

Pressure is rising rapidly, an unseen force expanding out from Bruce’s hand, compressing Scott’s lungs in his chest and making his heart thud wildly in his ears. When he finally snaps, Scott imagines he can almost hear a booming crash in the distance, and the floor shudders as the pressure surges, then dissipates, faster than he can consciously register. 

Bruce collapses, glove falling away as nearly everyone rushes in to tend him. Cap strolls over to the abandoned gauntlet and picks it up, eyeing it speculatively, while Peter sprays Bruce’s burned and atrophied arm with some kind of antibiotic coolant. The metal shutters encircling the lab begin to rise automatically, and the noise draws Scott’s attention away. Through the window he can see birds flitting about, alighting from branch to branch. 

Somewhere in the room, a phone begins to vibrate. 

“Guys,” Scott manages, around the lump forming in his throat. “I think it worked.” 

And then the world erupts into fire. 

**Author's Note:**

> So the Scott POV was a fun exercise in outsider-but-not-POV, but also kind of a stretch for me, so I hope it works well for y’all. Next up, our main man Mr. Tony “get it together” Stark.


End file.
